


black cats sleep in alleys but come home in the morning

by YaelaTheWordsmith



Series: the black cats AU [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Arguing, College AU, D R A M A, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Up, Pining, Tears, Urban Magic AU, azumane asahi is best supportive friend, boys misunderstanding each other and trying to work through their shit, communicate w/ your partner kids it's good for you, figuring out how to handle emotional messes like adults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:33:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22182604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YaelaTheWordsmith/pseuds/YaelaTheWordsmith
Summary: Tetsurou and Daichi fight for the first time. There's a lot of angry meowing, a lot of tears, a lizard, and a bathtub.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Sawamura Daichi
Series: the black cats AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1590508
Comments: 26
Kudos: 127





	black cats sleep in alleys but come home in the morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyWisteria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyWisteria/gifts).



> Boys I'm so sorry  
> HBD Toa 2.5 because I yelled to you a lot in the process and you gave me a bunch of help kgkdkfj idk if this counts as a full gift  
> shoutout to thesaurus.com for helping the author through these troubling times  
> shoutout also to my roommate for helping me when I was stuck with the argument bit!  
> 

Their Friday groceries are spilled all over the floor. An apple has rolled under the sofa, the milk is lying on its side, the bread is being crushed under the frozen chicken, and the oranges are a garish splash of colour against the dark floor.

“Are you kidding me,” Daichi growls, striding over to put them back in their bags. “Are you _serious_ right now -”

“What is it?” Asahi asks, padding into the tiny kitchen.

“Tetsu again,” Daichi says, putting the last of the bags back on the counter. “Sorry, Asahi.”

Asahi’s frown is worried. “You know I don’t really care about a couple of slices of squished bread, Daichi, but -”

“I know, I know.”

“I mean, he’s not doing any real damage - I know he wouldn’t, but -”

“I _know_ ,” Daichi groans. “He just won’t listen.”

“Yeah . . . you’ll get through to him though, I’m sure.” Asahi snags an orange out of the bag and pats Daichi’s shoulder on his way past. “I’ll be back for dinner. Study group after?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Daichi says distractedly, looking around the room for any sign of a black cat. “I’ll see you.”

“Bye.”

There’s nothing, neither hide nor hair of him. Daichi waits till the front door closes, and takes a deep breath.

“Tetsu, get out here right now! How the hell did you even get in?!”

The yell rings through the small apartment, loud enough that he startles himself a little. There’s no response.

“So you’re just gonna hide, is that it? You know, I’m getting kind of tired of this shit. Asahi lives here too, you think it’s fair to ask him to put up with this? That argument went bad, I know, but we can’t do anything about it if you won’t _talk_ to me! You can’t just spend the rest of the term avoiding me, do you realize that?” He pauses, taking a breath to calm himself down, but his next words come out low and contemptuous. “I never pegged you for a coward.”

There’s silence for a long moment, and then Tetsurou stalks out from the space between the sofa and the wall, hackles raised.

“Look who it is,” Daichi snaps. “It’s about time you decided to make an appearance. What did you do last night, sleep in the alley? Go home just to grab some clothes after a breakfast of garbage scraps?”

Tetsurou plants his ass in the middle of their hall and yowls at him, spiteful and angry and incredibly loud for such a tiny thing. Daichi leans back against the counter and gives him the most unimpressed stare he can manage through the whole thing.

“Yeah, I heard the same eloquent speech last night, too,” he says bitingly, when Tetsurou finally stops for breath, “the whole goddamn street did. Are you ready to talk now?”

⸶⸷

_Tuesday evening_

“The party wasn’t a bad one, though, was it?”

“It wasn’t,” Tetsurou replies, bending to fold his shirt. His forehead is furrowed, his mouth tight and pursed. “I just - I don’t get along with Daishou that well, okay?”

“Well, okay . . . I’m sorry, I just thought that since everyone else was gonna be there, we could hang out with them and it wouldn’t be a problem. I mean, I barely saw Daishou’s face the whole time -”

“Look, it’s not about the fact that it was Daishou’s party - even though I’d really rather not owe him anything,” Tetsurou says, straightening and putting a hand on his hip. “It’s just - you agreed for both of us to go without asking me in the first place.”

Daichi pauses with the cupboard open, towel in hand. “But like I said, I thought since everyone -”

“Yeah, I get it, and I honestly wouldn’t have minded otherwise. But -” Tetsurou breaks off, looking conflicted. “But it’s not the first time you’re doing something like this, Daichi.”

A chill crawls into the pit of Daichi’s stomach. “What do you mean, something like this?”

“Even me staying over tonight - you happened to pick up the phone when my aunt called, you mentioned that you were thinking of asking me to stay, and that was it. I was staying. I didn’t even know about it until you texted me last night, and when I woke up in the morning she’d already packed an overnight bag for me.”

“What, are you saying you didn’t want to come over?”

“No, of course I did, but I was the last in the loop. And there’s been so many times, like - like when you told study group I wouldn’t mind typing up the notes, when you told Matsukawa he could borrow my shoes to go running, when you told Yakkun I could pick up his groceries for him - or when you volunteered us to lock up the gym when captain wasn’t feeling too great, or told Oikawa we wouldn’t mind going with him on a double date to that shitty movie theater -”

Daichi frowns, exasperation beginning to fizz beneath his skin. “But you were fine with all those things, I don’t -”

“It’s not about whether I’d be fine with it or not, Daichi, it’s - isn’t it, like, common courtesy to check in with me before assuming how I’m going to act or react? Even if your assumptions are right, I don’t know, it’s frustrating. Even with Bokuto, last week -”

“When he asked me to help him before the test? Come on, Tetsu, he was really nervous and you were just getting over that fever, you weren’t around for him, so when he asked me I thought you’d of course want me to -”

“Yeah, yes, I did, but I was looking forward to hanging out with you, okay?” Tetsurou clicks his tongue in irritation at the look on Daichi’s face. “I’m not saying I would have wanted you to ditch him, he’s one of my oldest friends and I’m glad, okay, that you two get along so well, and I know how anxious he can get. Just - there wasn’t an instant’s hesitation -”

“Of course there was! You don’t think I was looking forward to spending time with you too?”

“But the decision was all yours! I mean - of course it was yours, he asked _you_ , but - when you told me, it was like ‘Hey, Bokuto needs me to help him prep for his test so we’ll have to shift movie night’ not ‘Hey, Bokuto needs me to help him prep for his test, so sorry but is it okay if we shift movie night?’ Do you see the difference?”

The silence is deafening in the wake of his raised voice.

Eventually Daichi says, quietly, “How long have you been feeling like this?”

Tetsurou looks away for the first time, and the sick, cold feeling in Daichi’s gut intensifies. “I . . . I didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“Evidently.” Daichi crosses his arms. “I didn’t realise I was so hard to talk to. What, were you scared I’d get mad or something?”

“What? No, of course not -”

“No, but it had to be something, because you’re telling me that for weeks - _weeks_ \- you’ve been getting pissed off when I do this, when I make decisions without letting you have a voice or whatever the fuck, and you’re only bringing it up now, and I’m just asking why you’ve, you know, been storing it up like this. Wanted to make sure I felt properly bad about what I’d done?”

Tetsurou’s eyes go dark and half lidded, and his mouth turns up dangerously at the corners as he shoves his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know, Daichi, maybe I felt like I was being an idiot. Maybe I thought I was being too sensitive. Maybe I thought you, of all people, might realize it sooner rather than later. Kind Sawamura, generous Sawamura, thoughtful Sawamura, Sawamura who has time to make sure everyone is okay and that he’s on everyone’s good side - other than his boyfriend, of course.”

“Bullshit,” Daichi spits, tears prickling the backs of his eyes. “That’s _bullshit,_ Tetsurou. Are you telling me I, I, I neglect you? I don’t care enough about you, is that what you’re saying?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Tetsurou drawls. “You know better than me, after all -”

“Don’t!” Daichi takes a step forward without realising it, fists trembling at his side. “Don’t you _dare_ give me that smirk, don’t you dare fence with me and - and jab at me and pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about - that might work fine with everyone else, but I thought you at least had the goddamn guts to meet _me_ head on, even if you hide from the rest of - !”

He catches himself, knowing even in his hurt and his anger what a mistake it would be to finish the sentence - but it’s too late. Tetsurou flinches like Daichi has punched him.

“From the rest of the world, Daichi?” he says, deadly quiet.

“I - no -”

But his words hang in the air, ugly and hurtful, as Tetsurou, with eyes like a wound and a mouth like flint, turns into a cat and leaps out of the window into the dark.

That night, Daichi has to press his pillows over his ears to muffle the angry, incessant yowls echoing down the street. Both he and Asahi stumble into the kitchen when the morning light is still a pale grey-blue, bleary-eyed and blinking slower than usual.

“Cats had some fight last night,” Asahi yawns, cradling his mug of steaming tea to his chest as he pours out a second cup.

Daichi, looking outside, catches sight of a sleek black shadow hop on top of the hedge surrounding the building and vanish on the other side.

“Yeah,” he says, heavily, turning away to accept the tea Asahi’s holding out to him. “Some fight.”

⸶⸷

_Wednesday_

Class is a nightmare. Tetsurou avoids him like the plague, leaves all his messages on read or doesn’t read them at all, he doesn’t pick up when he tries to call, he’s the first out of the room when the bell rings and he sits as far away from Dachi as he can manage. He’s evidently not going to make it easy for Daichi to talk to him.

Honestly, Daichi doesn’t know what he wants to say. He needs to apologize, he knows, because the way things had ended was his fault and what he’d said had been inexcusable - but Tetsurou hadn’t been blameless either. Those wounds are still wide open, and he doesn’t want to fight anymore, but - but he wants to Tetsurou to know that he left him bleeding. That his words still hurt.

Lunch is worse than class. Daichi eats on the lawn outside, alone - it’s easier than sitting at a different table and watching their friends struggle to choose who to sit with. He can’t try to talk to him in the middle of the bustling cafeteria anyway. There’s a vending machine Tetsurou stops by occasionally after lunch, and Daichi hangs around there for a while, but he doesn’t show up. They don’t have any classes together in the afternoon, so Daichi puts his phone on airplane and tries to focus in class, but all he can do is go over the argument over and over again.

_Was it my fault? Was it his fault? Was it both of us? Where did it go wrong? How did it go wrong? Was it my fault? Wasn’t it both of us? But was it more my fault?_

It plays without pause, a miserable, miserable soundtrack accompanying the images that flash across the back of his eyelids - Tetsurou’s shock, his hurt, his cold anger, the look on his face before he’d turned to leave - and he puts his head down on the desk, no longer able to make the effort of even pretending to be paying attention.

When the last bell sounds, he has to go the bathroom and stand over a toilet with his hands braced on his knees, so certain is he that he’s going to throw up his lunch, so badly is his stomach churning as _Sawamura who has time to make sure everyone is okay other than his boyfriend_ echoes in his head.

 _Please talk to me_ , he texts for the fifth time that day, and leaves the bathroom with red eyes.

He’s a little better when he gets back to the flat, and stays in his room for the evening, even managing to get some work done. When he comes out for dinner, it’s to find Asahi kneeling and squinting at their couch.

“Did you see this?” Asahi asks, without looking up.

“What is it?” he says, crouching to look. Asahi points to the legs of the couch, which have been mauled thoroughly enough that the floor is littered with tiny ribbons of wood.

“Shit,” Daichi mutters as he rubs a thumb over the marks, shocked anger rising in a slow surge. _I get that you’re pissed, Tetsu, but really?_

“Did you two argue?” Asahi asks, softly. “He wouldn’t even look at you in class today.”

“Something like that.” Daichi sighs. “Did you, uh, see him come in?”

“No, it was like this when I got back . . .”

“Oh, shit, I think I left my window open this morning.” Daichi sits back on his heels, putting his forehead in his hands for a long, tired moment.

“It might have been a stray cat,” Asahi offers.

“A stray cat would have knocked over things, maybe ripped open some food in the storeroom or made a mess of our stuff. Not come in just to scratch up one piece of furniture and then leave.”

“That’s . . . yeah, makes sense. It - it must have been bad, your fight, for him to . . .”

There’s not the barest hint of accusation, Asahi doesn’t even finish the sentence, but Daichi’s shoulders curl inwards like he’s placed the weight of the world on them.

“ . . . Yeah. I - uh, I said some things I shouldn’t have . . . and yeah, it was bad for both of us. I tried talking to him, but he doesn’t - he won’t -”

Asahi hums in understanding, and squeezes his shoulder, and doesn’t push further.

“I’m here if you wanna talk about it, okay?”

“Thanks, Asahi.”

“It’ll work out, I think. It’s only been four months since you two got together, you know? There’s bound to be things you don’t know about each other, things that come up, things that cause conflict. But you two, of all people, should definitely be able to work things out.”

Daichi snorts weakly. “I hope so. God, I hope so.”

“He, um, probably wouldn’t want to talk to me. But if he does - I’ll tell him you miss him?”

“No,” he replies, after a beat, too low and too hoarse. “He knows. He - he should know.”

“Won’t hurt him to hear it,” Asahi says gently. “And it might push him to talk to you sooner. Hopefully before volleyball practice tomorrow.”

“God,” Daichi groans, burying his face in his hands. “Don’t remind me.”

⸶⸷

_Thursday_

They do not work things out before volleyball practice.

The court feels far too small to hold the both of them. Daichi has to dance around like his shoes are biting his feet to avoid bumping into Tetsurou because, of course, they’ve been placed on the same team - today, of all days. At any other time it would have been a victory, finally an acknowledgement from the coach that they work better together than apart, exactly what they’ve been waiting for for weeks. Now, Daichi has to depend on Yaku and Oikawa to be go betweens, a role that Yaku does not relish and that has Oikawa giving them each sharp glares in turn, and Tetsurou still refuses to even glance his way.

“Next play’s a time difference attack,” Oikawa tells Daichi, after their fifteenth point. “Tettsun thinks it’s a good chance. I’ll be a little off center because I’ll be coming off the back line, so if Bokkun serves to you watch your receive, yeah?”

“Got it,” Daichi mutters, staring at Tetsurou’s back.

“Oy.”

“Yeah?”

“You two better sort out whatever’s going on before the practice match with East Uni next weekend, or our chances of getting to first string this year are sunk.”

Daichi grimaces. “I got it, I got it. We’ll be fine for the match, don’t sweat it.”

A statement that both of them know he has no confidence in whatsoever, but Oikawa slaps him on the back kindly and jogs back to his spot without saying anything more. The whistle blows, the ball’s in play, and Tetsurou’s time difference attack is a thing of beauty that Daichi can hardly bear to watch. He’s first off the court when the final set is over, hurrying through cooldown and heading to the locker room well in advance of the others.

He leans his forehead against the cool metal of his locker when he’s done changing, hating the crawling cold in his chest, hating that his boyfriend still can’t stand to even look at him, hating how the fear that this is the end for them won’t leave the back of his mind, hating how the whole goddamn mess feels with a vicious, vicious passion.

His phone chimes, and he’s flicked it open before he realizes what he’s doing, hoping against hope it’s from Tetsurou, that he saw him leave early, that he’s finally relented, that he’s concerned -

No. It’s only Suga, reminding him about their Runes professor’s extra lecture tomorrow morning. He can’t resist the temptation to check Tetsurou’s chat - which, he sees, his heart dropping, still has twenty unread texts piled on top of each other.

The phone is shoved to the bottom of his bag as he strides out of the locker room, and he heads back to the flat almost at a sprint, intending to drown himself in work so he doesn’t allow himself to look at it again. He arrives panting and drenched in sweat, feeling worse instead of better. Asahi isn’t back yet when he arrives - he’d wanted to stay for extra practice with Yaku, Daichi remembers belatedly. He makes the effort of leaving a pot of tea out for him before heading to his room to wash off -

\- and hops back with a startled yelp, barely avoiding stepping on the dead lizard lying in the middle of the floor that’s quite clearly been killed by something with sharp teeth. Tetsurou didn’t have the first two morning classes today, he realizes, and he’d been weak enough to have left his window open again on purpose.

“Fuck,” he snaps aloud in the empty room, frustrated and furious and achingly disappointed in himself. “What was I expecting, that he’d be here purring on the pillow when I got home?”

There’s no answer written on the blank walls staring back at him. He scoops the lizard up in a piece of paper, tips it outside into the bushes, slams the window shut, and falls into bed, burying his face in the pillow as he tries not to cry and fails wretchedly.

He wakes up in the middle of the night, gasping in the clutches of a half-tangible nightmare, and realizes that the yowling under his window is back. Pillows over his ears help, but when he manages to fall back asleep, it’s to a dream of a sobbing Tetsurou screaming at him through a glass wall - but the only voice he has is a cat’s. Daichi can do nothing but watch him cry and eventually turn away, leaving Daichi alone and abandoned on his knees on the other side of the glass.

⸶⸷

_Friday_

Tetsurou hisses at him, lip curling back over sparkling sharp teeth. Daichi stares him down for a minute, then sighs, suddenly bone tired by the whole thing.

“Okay, okay, you’re angry, I _get_ it,” he says. “God, will you just change back so we can talk? Please, Tetsu, _please_. How long are we going to stay like this?”

He crouches, holding out a tentative hand. Tetsurou hisses again, but less viciously, and his hackles are starting to go down a little.

“There we go,” Daichi says, hope starting to spark in his chest. “Come on.”

Tetsurou comes a little closer, sniffing suspiciously at Daichi’s fingers. He must have spent a good while as a cat this time, Daichi thinks. He’s less well groomed than usual, and his eyes are flatter, more luminescent, less human than they usually are, and -

“Tetsu, you - you have fleas crawling on you!”

Tetsurou blinks, eyes widening in a way that is very definitely human, before twisting to look around at himself. There’s a strangled mewl, and a _poof_ , and it’s Tetsurou in his human form sitting there, horrified disgust on his face as tiny fleas fall to the floor around him.

“Oh no, oh no, oh gross gross gross -”

“Bathtub,” Daichi says firmly, hauling him up by one arm and resisting the urge to laugh with amusement and sweet, sweet relief. “Come on.”

Tetsurou follows without protest, distracted as he cringes at the feeling of fleas crawling over his shoulders, and oddly docile. Oddly quiet.

It’s a tiny bathroom and a tinier bathtub, and it doesn’t take long to fill. "This is what you get for spending the night in an alley,” Daichi says, nudging him inside. Tetsurou says nothing, avoiding his gaze as he steps into the water and sits hunched over his knees.

Daichi sits on the edge of the tub and pours shampoo into his palms, trying to gauge Tetsurou’s mood. “I’m not sure if human shampoo does anything against fleas,” he says cautiously, rubbing his hands together. “I can go out and get cat shampoo if it doesn’t work, though. Put some water in your hair, would you?”

Tetsurou briefly ducks his head underwater, and sits silent with one cheek on his knees as Daichi begins to rub the shampoo into his hair. It’s not like him, but Daichi swallows the anxiety beginning to swell in his chest and waits. He’s determined to give him the chance to say what he wants to first, now that they can finally, finally talk to each other.

It takes a while, but he does. His voice is quiet enough that it doesn’t even echo in the tiny space, off the old tiles, but it's still startling when it breaks the heavy silence.

“Daichi.”

“Mmhm?”

“ . . . I - I want to apologize. For, um . . . for knocking the groceries over, and scratching the furniture, and the lizard, and howling in the middle of the night . . . and now you have fleas in the middle of your flat. I didn’t mean -” He huffs out a quick sigh, ripples briefly appearing on the surface of the water. “I don’t think I told you, before, but when I’m a cat, it’s harder for me to think straight. There’s new instincts and sharper senses all - all layered on top of each other, and thinking becomes harder the longer I stay that way. It gets easier to manage, like, my mom can play chess as a cat and shit, but it’s only been a few years for me, so.”

“I didn’t know,” Daichi murmurs as quietly, working up through the short hair at the base of Tetsurou’s neck. “But I know you don’t like talking about shifting much.”

“Yeah,” Tetsurou says. “Not many people do know. I, um . . . I was upset, and hurt, and angry, I guess, and being a cat makes it easier, you know? Not as many thoughts running around, so emotions are easier to manage. I . . . ”

He tips his head forward, forehead tucked against his knees, and takes a long breath. Daichi’s hands slow, and he leans forward a little to listen as the line of Tetsurou’s shoulders tenses.

“I wanted to see you,” Tetsurou says, barely audible, into the space between his legs and the water and his chest. “I wanted to come over and yell at you until I wasn’t mad anymore. I wanted us to work things out so, so badly. But I didn’t - I couldn’t - I didn’t know how to show up like a normal fucking person. I’d come here as a cat and think ‘I’ll wait until it’s just Daichi at home and then go around to the front door and ring the bell and we’ll be able to talk’, or ‘Let me see how mad he is first before trying to talk to him because I wanna work things out quickly,’ like it was some dumbass spy mission or some bullshit, and I’d come here and - and your smell was everywhere, and I could smell it was sad, and I just wanted to curl up in your bed and go to sleep, but I could also smell like - like anger and irritation, and that made _me_ mad too, and - I wanted to - to be with you and be as far away from you as I could, I wanted - wanted to kiss you and punch you at the same fucking time, and it was all crashing into each other in my head, and before I knew what I was doing I’d scratched the couch, and knocked the bags over, and -” He takes another long, shuddering breath, curling further in on himself. “It’s not - an excuse. I still knew what I was doing. I should have been able to stop. And if I couldn’t, I should have stopped coming here as a cat once I realized that. It wasn’t fair to Asahi either. I’m - I’m really sorry.”

Daichi realizes his hands have stopped, and gets them moving again, rubbing his thumbs into the nape of Tetsurou’s neck as he tries to figure out what to say, as he tries to ignore what the scared anguish in Tetsurou’s words is doing to his throat.

“It’s okay,” he says, steadily, his eyes trained on his own wrists. “It’s - it’s fine. I was - pretty upset at the time, I’m not gonna lie, but that’s because I thought you were doing it on purpose, to mess with us. But Tetsu, why did you have to -” He stops, rewords what he wants to say. “Why did you feel like you had to know how I felt before you could talk to me? Why was it so hard for you to just - just tell me straight out, all these days? That’s - the reason I got upset, that night, because you couldn’t - because it _felt_ like you couldn’t trust me with how you were feeling. Because, if it had been me in your place, I would have just told you the very first time it happened, not weeks after, and - I’m not trying to say that just because that’s what I would do you should do it too, that's not it, but - I felt untrusted, I guess, and alienated. Like - like I did something wrong that made you feel like you couldn’t tell me until it got bad enough that you absolutely had to.”

His voice is no longer steady by the time he stops talking.

Tetsurou shrugs, helplessly. “I don’t know. I - I thought I was overreacting, at first, I thought it was on me. You were doing it for the best, and you were doing what _was_ best, and I knew it, and I thought it was a trivial thing, it was all in my head . . . I’m sorry you - you felt like that, of course I trust you, I absolutely trust you, I just - god, I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if I really - had the right to say anything.”

“Did you think I’d dismiss it?”

“Maybe, I don’t know . . .” Tetsurou sniffs, and Daichi realizes that his voice is off too, now. “But - but you did, kind of, when I - you, um -”

“Tell me,” Daichi urges him, when he trails off. “It’s okay.”

“You said ‘When I make decisions without your voice or whatever the fuck’ or something like that, in this really - really, like, scornful way, and all I could think was ‘Hey, I was right, it really is a stupid worthless thing, I never should have tried to even bring it up’. That - that hurt. And then I just - I said those - those horrible things to you -”

“ ‘Sawamura who cares about everything other than his boyfriend,’ huh?”

Tetsurou flinches. “Yeah. That.”

Daichi abandons his hair to slide his arms around his neck, carefully resting his chin on top of his head. “I’m sorry you felt like I dismissed you,” he says softly, praying that Tetsurou hears the truth in his voice. “And I’m sorry for being - what you said, for not talking to you before making decisions that involved both of us, for assuming your decisions for you. I’m - I’m used to being the one that has to run the drills, the one that has to wrangle the team, the one who’s left to take care of my brother and sister, the one who’s expected to make all the calls first. I guess . . . I guess I’m so used to being that person that I just did that with you too, without even thinking about it. It’s not an excuse, though, and I’m sorry, and I should have listened when you tried to talk to me about it.” He takes a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. “I was surprised, and I was hurt, but I should have tried harder to listen to what you were trying to tell me instead of - lashing out, I guess. It wasn’t right of me to say what I said, or - or to imply that you were purposely trying to make me feel bad.”

Tetsurou grasps his wrists tightly with one hand, his heart hammering under Daichi’s palm. “I didn’t mean what I said,” he whispers. “That you don’t - don’t care about me enough, that you -”

“I really, really, really care about you,” Daichi whispers back fervently, shifting to nuzzle into Tetsurou’s neck as warm tears finally escape to course down his cheeks. “I care about you so, so much, Tetsu, god, I missed you so _much_. I hated not being able to talk to you, I hated you being mad at me, I thought of every single thing I said wrong and wished I could go back and do it again and do it right so that you wouldn’t leave - fuck, I’m so, so sorry about the - about the hiding from the world thing, I shouldn’t have said it, it was so unfair of me to use it against you like that -”

“Yeah, that - that was pretty terrible. I didn’t expect you to -” Tetsurou laughs a little, choked and broken. “I guess the lizard makes us even, though -”

“No,” Daichi says fiercely, clutching him tighter. “Nothing would ever make us even for that. You told me that -”

_\- in confidence, and vulnerable, and you’d never told anyone before, how it feels to have to hide who you are every day of your life from everyone because if they knew they’d cast you off, turn you away, throw you into the dark, and I used it like a knife against you -_

“ - and trusted me when you told me that, and I abused it like a complete asshole. Sorry doesn’t fucking cover it. I will never, ever do something like that again, I swear to you, I _swear_.”

Tetsurou turns in the circle of his arms to face him, eyes crinkling a little at the corners when he sees that Daichi has shampoo bubbles smeared all across his neck and cheek and nose. His eyes are red, and tear-filled.

“I believe you. I trust you,” he murmurs, cradling Daichi’s face in hands that are damp and warm from the water. “And I’m not half as angry with you as you are with yourself, so - I think I can forgive you.”

He shifts onto his knees and tilts his face up like a starving man, and Daichi meets his mouth just as desperately, just as thankfully. They kiss, and kiss, and Tetsurou whimpers against Daichi’s mouth and tugs him forward so hard that he slips off the edge of the tub and into the water, and Daichi kisses him deeper and harder and more eagerly as water soaks into his shorts and his hands slip over Tetsurou’s wet skin.

Tetsurou breaks away first, gasping, “I can taste shampoo." Daichi bursts out laughing, and Tetsurou grins weakly at him, and Daichi wipes away the tears sliding down his cheeks with quick fingers.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart,” he says. Tetsurou nuzzles into his fingers at _sweetheart_ , and he has to smile at how like a kitten he looks as he wipes his own face on his sleeve. “We’re good, we’re okay. Even if we swallowed some shampoo.”

Tetsurou turns to press a kiss into his palm, eyes fluttering shut as he does, and Daichi wants to kiss away every teardrop clinging to his eyelashes.

“We’re okay,” he murmurs, smiling against Daichi’s skin, and Daichi kisses his cheek.

“We’re finally okay,” he says. “Tetsu, I swear to god, if you’d just _talked_ to me before, we wouldn’t have had to wait three days to be okay - it was the worst three days of my life -”

“I was _mad at you_ ,” Tetsurou says, half scowling, but his mouth is twitching upwards. “You said something _terrible_ to me, and I didn’t want to see you, didn’t want to be around you for a while, and then -”

He stops short. Daichi kisses the tip of his nose, squeezes his hand. “And then?”

“And then I was scared,” he admits, like it’s the worst secret in the world. “It was the first time we’d ever fought this badly, and I - I thought maybe if I’d just explained properly in the first place you wouldn’t have gotten mad, things wouldn’t have gotten so messed up, and I didn’t know how not to mess up again - what if we just ended up shouting at each other again, what if we just ended up saying cruel things to each other and things just got worse and worse - what if I said something like I said before and everything was ruined, and you - you finally decided that you don’t want - that I’m not - I didn’t know how to -”

“ _Tetsu_ ,” Daichi sobs, really sobs, his heart breaking in his chest. “Fuck, _fuck_ , I was so scared that - that you hated me for what I said, that I’d messed up so badly that you’d never talk to me again, never look at me again, I thought I’d never kiss you again, I was so scared that I’d lost you because you _wouldn’t talk to me_ , you _idiot_ , and you thought _I’d_ leave _you_? I’d have gone down on my knees in front of the whole goddamn campus -”

Tetsurou’s mouth drops open, and he looks at Daichi like he’s thrown a grenade into his face. Daichi punches him in the chest weakly.

“You are _never_ leaving like that again,” he hiccups. “Shout at me, kick me, hit me, I don’t care, but please, _please_ , don’t leave me - you _stay_ , and we work shit out, and we don’t move till we work shit out. You hear me?”

Tetsurou grabs his face in both hands and kisses him, hard and fierce and passionate enough that Daichi’s a little dizzy when they break apart, that he has to clutch at his shoulders for support.

“God, I love you,” he gasps. “I’m such an idiot, fuck - I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I swear I’ll never leave again, I promise, I swear -”

He kisses Daichi again, and again, and again, until they’ve both stopped crying and the water’s gone stone cold. Daichi’s clothes are soaked, but Tetsurou is there, and he’s warm, and he’s holding him, and they’re together. And finally, finally - things are okay.

They’re okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I did say a lot of Tears rip >.< but they're happy now!  
> I'm always super happy to hear what y'all thought ^.^  
> Edit: I TOTALLY FORGOT KFKSKFJKG - all credit for the arguing being realistic goes [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bFDzhKdrN9M) :))  
> Drop by my [Tumblr](https://yaelathewordsmith.tumblr.com/) and/or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/writer_yaela) to yell about hq and for commission info! :3


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